


Purple

by Tanya (butterbae)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3822055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterbae/pseuds/Tanya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amara is the goddess of clairvoyance, perception, and madness, abandoned from her Olympian compatriots and sentenced to live eternally on Earth. When S.H.I.E.L.D. somehow catches wind of her, she's made the Avengers' newest member. However, there's trouble brewing and Amara needs to face her past alongside some of the most powerful beings on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I decided to give this fic a try because I'm a huge fan of greek mythology and the Avengers so I thought I'd combine the two. Hope you like it and don't worry, sex will eventually come ;)

She closed her eyes and tried to remember the details of what had happened in the last 24 hours. She was walking in a small, uneventful town near route 20 in Nebraska. She decided to hitchhike that night, as the stars came out and the crickets sang. She didn't care, she could handle the trouble quite easily if it came by.

With that in mind, she made her way next to the highway and put up her thumb, hoping she wouldn't have to wait all night. She barely had any cash for a motel room.

The sky was dark but had a full moon, lighting the night quite nicely. Cars passed, however none stopped. She stayed there, determined to get a ride. It was quiet, peaceful, she liked it that way. She sat and sighed, closing her eyes and letting her thumb down to take in this rare moment.

However, later on, she was startled by the crack of a branch near her. Her purple eyes popped up and her ears perked up, sensing trouble ahead. She quickly turned and approached the sound, unafraid. She walked down the ditch near the highway, her breath stable and steady.

Suddenly, a pair of masked masculine figures appeared, holding her at gunpoint. She struggled as one of the two grabbed her, his grip strong. She squirmed, spit on his face and kicked his partner as he attempted to inject her with something.Finally, she escaped her assailant's grip and whispered a curse under her breath, making him convulse onto the ground. The other quickly stood up, but succumbed to another one of her curses and fell with a wide-eyed convulsion. The two men remained unconscious, victim to her strength.

She huffed, took a cigarette and a lighter from her bag, and lit it up as soon as it was in between her lips. Smoking calmed her and cleared her mind, helping her make future decisions. She checked for a pulse, however she didn't find one on either of the bodies. She searched for anything valuable they had on them, eventually finding multiple guns, knives, and two watches. The watches seemed sophisticated and expensive, each offering complex settings. The knives and the guns were new and clean, spotless.

Satisfied, she stuffed the items in her bag and walked away from the scene, squashing her cigarette on the way.

She sat on the same spot, her thumb up, hoping for a ride.

 

________________

 

She stared at the stale state of her breakfast. The plate had dry mashed potatoes, sausages, cold sunny side-up eggs, and hard bread.

She was sitting in the corner booth of a local restaurant, still stuck in Nebraska. The place was empty for a sunday morning, the only other customers were an elderly couple, content with their disgusting breakfast.

The waitresses casually chatted with cooks near the counter, sipping on coffee and gossiping about the small town's people.

The restaurant surely was as unhygienic as it looked, with dust and syrup piling up on the counters to opened sugar packets unorganized in the booths. There were flies storming through the air and spider webs on every corner. There were broken blinds and the booths smelled like mold. It was an absolute shit hole.

No one picked her up yesterday and so, she was stuck in a small town once again surrounded by cornfields. Her life started to get tiring.

Suddenly, the cheap bell on the door ringed. She looked up from her meal only to spot a suited man. He was wearing sunglasses and had an expensive watch, exactly like the one her attackers were wearing yesterdays. Her eyes widened and she focused on her breakfast, planning on what to do. Someone was onto her.

The man sat at the counter, tapping his foot on the red stool and his fingers on the counter. The waitresses didn't seem to mind.

He stood up and turned, reaching for something in his pocket. The woman held her breath as she tried to remain calm and think.

' _Think, think, think,'_ she told herself.

The man held a gun on her, screaming for the staff and the elderly couple to hit the floor. Everyone scram and hid except for the woman who held her bag tightly, unable to think.

Taking a deep breath, she leaped from her seat and pirouetted through the air, landing perfectly in front of the man and knocking him out.

The elderly couple screamed. Soon enough, other men came through the door and the windows, completly destroying them. They held guns to her head, but she didn't mind at all. They underestimated her strength.

She smirked and whispered the curse from the night before, making them all convulse onto the ground. In a hurry, she fled from the scene through one of the broken windows and ran for her life. Again, she was being followed by these black SUVs through the cornfields of Rushville Nebraska.

She ran through the fields near the highway, remaining calm and stable throughout the whole snafu. Who were these people?

The SUVs were renlentless and finally caught up to her. A few passed her and blocked her way with others that blocked the pther directions, left, right, and back. They wasted no time and let out a few other suited men, this time equipped with needle-like bullets in their guns.

She widened her eyes and uttered the first words of her curse before being taken down by a dozen or so needles. She panicked as she felt the liquid going through her veins. The poison immediatly affected her mind, rendering her unable to stand or communicate. She struggled before she collapsed onto the field, her last memory the smell of corn.


	2. The Interrogation

She opened her eyes again. She was located in a cage, darkness her only friend. She sat hungry, dehydrated, and with no cigarette to keep her company. The only luxury they provided her was a metal toilet in a corner with no paper whatsoever. Her leather jacket and her jeans kept her warm, a plus she thought as the cold and somehow windy windowless room made her freeze. They had taken away her backpack and with that, her only posessions.

She pondered over what to do this time. She reviewed the possible actions in her mind. There was Plan A: attack, Plan B: wait and attack, and Plan C: do nothing. They were probably watching her, evaluating her, and examining her reactions. She settled with Plan B, she had to play it smart this time.

In the next day or so, she examined every corner of the room, however it was quite difficult as the darkness blanketed and hid her surroundings, however she still managed to notice 5 cameras and 4 microphones, hidden in either the metal bars of her prison, the floor, or even the toilet.

She started to feel the heavy bags under her eyes, fatigue taking over her weak body. She had rarely been weakened by mortals before. They had a weapon which knocked her out, which was unthinkable. Nobody had ever been able to beat her.

For what seemed as endless hours, our hero silently sat in the same position, patient and hungry. Her stomach growled, she was still incredibly hungry.

She picked at her nails, braided strands of her hair, and traced patterns on her skin. She was about to lose her mind, but she had to stick to her plan. She wasn't going to go down easy.

Suddenly, the door opened and with it came light. Her eyes fixed the opening, sparking in her some hope. A rather tall slender red headed woman came through, eyeing the prisonner. She walked confidently, her head up, her shoulders spread. Her posture made her seem important, it didn't fear the prisonner. In fact, she smirked. A chance at escaping her hellhole, finally.

The woman halted in front of the prison, staring blankly at the prisonner whilst our heroine had the same poker-faced expression. The woman started speaking,"I am Agent Natasha Rushmann and I work for S.H.I.E.L.D., a group formed by the Unites States government to investigate the unusual. These men will lead you to our interrogation room." Still, she sat there with no words uttered, staring at Rushmann.

The woman, Natasha, had a monotone and somewhat strict voice. Her businesswoman suit might have also helped with her confidance. Meanwhile, the prisoner remained still, quiet as ever before. The agent turned and nodded her head over the door. Guards, she assumed, came in. These men were heavily armed, though it didn't bother the caged bird, she was free to walk at last. The agent turned back and waited for them to open the door as she looked at the prisoner.

They rushed in as soon as the cage opened and put a black bag over her head, dragging her into what seemed a hallway. She made no effort to walk, instead the guards held her by the arms and dragged her feet on the floor. She didn't resist and she didn't gasp for air either, she was calm and steady. They made it in a closed space as she heard a door close behind her. Soon, they made her sit down, quite roughly too. She heard the cling of handcuffs around her left wrist, the other on what seemed a pole that brought her down. She didn't complain when they put it on too tightly.

The men took off her hood. She was blinded by the bright light, her pupils retracting as soon as she was uncovered. A metal table was in front of her, another chair on the other side. The table's pegs were fixed into the cemented floor with the other handcuff on the left peg. The room was small, the only opening being a metal door on its left side. There were two guards by her side, silent and stiff.

The door opened a few moments later with Natasha and two more guards accompanying her. Natasha looked at the captive as she sat down in the other chair in between two guards. The agent was holding a few documents in her hand which she layed on the table. She sat back, examining the prisoner.

"State your name," she calmly ordered, staring directly at her.

Still, she refused to answer.

"State. Your. Name," repeated the interrogator.

Both seemed fearless and bold, trying to figure each other. They stared at each other with a stone-faced expression.

"State your occupation," she said, giving up on her previous question. The prisoner remained indifferent and still, only shifting to cross her legs. She silently defied the interrogator, looking into her calm eyes. The agent's were stressed, agressive. They didn't leave the captive's for a second. They were quick to perceive any little slight movements or changes.

"None," suddenly answered the prisoner, poker-faced.

"What were you doing in Nebraska?" asked the indifferent agent.

"Passing through," calmly answered the captive.

"Why did you murder our agents and take their weapons, which we found in your bag?" she added, tossing files containing pictures of said items on the table.

There was a slight pause before the prisoner replied, silently observing the images. "They aimed and I fought back. Could make a buck quite easily selling them."

"How did you murder our agents?"

"My trade secret, if you want to call it that," she replied.

"Why?"

"Let's stop the chitchat. You'll never find me out, agent," she sternly answered.

Instead of repeating the question a third time, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent blankly stared at the young woman, her eyes examining every aspect of her mouvements. Meanwhile, the hostage returned the expression. She wasn't going to go down easily, even if they could stop her. She'd never reveal anything.

The stranger analysed everything on the agent from her clothing's fabric to the little specks of dust on the documents she was left holding. Her gaze met Natasha's green stained eyes, which resembled a mixture of a pale green and a bit of gray. The stranger's purple eyes had a few strokes of the darker shades of the colour on them, a rare and unique trait. It resembled the purple of a sunset at the end of a warm day, right between the warm orange glow of the sun and the start of darkness of the night. However, something strange was happening in them.

Her dark pupils were rapidly widening despite the bright light. Soon after, instead of her irises' natural lavender color, her eyes became overwhelming dark. They revealed something sinister behind her calm allure. Natasha widened her eyes in surprise and panic, knowing something would happen sooner or later, noticing before the guards could. Quickly, the captive muttered a few undecipherable words, which made the agent crumble on the table, letting go of her documents which hit the floor and rendering her unable to move or react, caught in some sort of trance.

The guards around them reacted soon after, the two by the stranger attacking her upper body, while the others did the same. However, she had another trick up her sleeve. With her strength, she managed to break free of her handcuff and punched one of the guards, knocking him out. Two held her face down on the table and were met with strong resistance while the other was preparing some sort of tranquilizer. As he finished the solution, she quickly detached her body from the guards who fell back and jumped off of the chair. She kicked the seat with her right leg towards the guards, who once again fell, leaving her with more time to think.

Calmly staring at them, she belted out razor sharp notes, making the guards cower in a corner, screaming in pain and covering their ears. She continued to sing as she made her way to the door, punching through it with no problem whatsoever.

Despite all the noise, she continued to belt out notes, running in unknown corridors and rooms to try and find an exit. Each time guards were sent to attack, they cowered in pain at her notes, some even fainting from the excessive sound. She stayed calm and focused, breathing in and out. Blood was rushing through her body and adrenaline was feeding her even more energy as she ran through the maze.

Finally, she found an open exit, a garage with its guards screaming in agony upon hearing the stranger's notes.

 _Almost there, almost there_.

She felt a sharp pain through her spinal cord and then her whole body, abruptly falling down. She closed her eyes, remained silent, and lay on the floor, her arms and legs sprawled out.


	3. The Offer

Abruptly, she widened her eyes, waking up from her sleep. She released a horrible glass shattering scream, while still caught in her monstruous nightmare. Sweat dripping from her forehead, she was shaking with fear and panic, grappling her shackles and finally, after squeezing, shattering them. She didn't even take notice.

She breathed in and out repeatdly afterwards, letting a few tears drop before quickly wiping them away along with the sweat. Her fingers were trembling and she felt the metallic taste of blood after biting to hard on her teeth.

_**Breathe**. _

_In and out, in and out._

_In and out._

_In and out._

She started to calm down, her fingers stopped shaking and soon enough, her whole body returned to its original state, quiet and focused.

Now relaxed and ignoring her previous outburst, she looked around, observing every single object in the room she found herself in. She couldn't be distracted by the nightmare.

It was small temporary room of sorts. It was covered in a plain dull white color with 'hidden' cameras around the room, made painfully obvious by the last minute finishes on the wall. She easily located one in every corner and a few near her bed. She also had two metal chairs in front of her with visible scratches and damages, perhaps waiting for a pair of guests. There were no windows and no openings other than a metal door on her right, which had a heavy lock.

This whole sketchy feeling was probably a way to make her feel vulnerable. There was no way that S.H.I.E.L.D., her kidnappers, could afford to buy such expensive ammo and tech gear for each of their agents and still have such a cheap room.

The young woman sinked on her bed and for the first time, noticed her broken cuffs, now merely metal shards. She sighed at the result and hid the bits under her blanket.

Suddenly, the door opened and two dark suited men came in. They were both muscular with bulging veins. Each had a gun on their belt and their face had no expression whatsoever. Their manner was swift and smooth, walking over to each side of her bed and listening to their earpiece.

"Package is safe," said the one standing on her right.

Then followed another man, this one was wearing an eyepatch hiding the scars underneath. He was bald and had the allure of an intimidating leader, his eyes showing strength and determination. He was dressed much differently than the others, wearing black clothes hidden underneath his dark leather trenchcoat and military boots. Next to him was a caucasian man with a stern face, his expression revealing nothing. He also wore an earpiece and a suit and tie, much like the guards. He was carrying a large metal briefcase, its contents sealed inside with an advanced lock system. He must've been an agent.

The pair then sat across her bed in the chairs. The man wearing the trenchcoat relaxed a little more than the other, his legs laid out in front of the chair. The other was strict in his manner and walk while eyepatch was visibly confident.

They both fixed her while bearing each an unreadable face. Minutes of silence and tension was felt. Frankly, she didn't seem to care too much. Our hero even cracked her fingers and stretched her arms out as her purple eyes stayed fixed on her targets.

The black man stared at her with anger while the other calmly looked on and noticed the shattered remains of the handcuffs. He slowly breathed in, closing his eyelids. When he opened them, a second later, he eyed her whilst she was smirking, drawing the attention of the third party.

"How did you do that?" asked the one-eyed man, genuinely intrigued, letting his anger fade away.

"I'm strong," she stiffly replied.

"We've been monitoring your activities for some time miss," interrupter the other man. "I'm Agent Coulson and this is director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"I know where I am. Your agent, whatever her name was, informed me before I, well, attempted to escape."

They both stared at her angrily this time. Their soft spot finally uncovered.

"I didn't kill her. She'll be fine, just like the others in that building, "she casually informed them. For a brief second, the pair seemed relieved, however they quickly went back to their intimidating state.

"For nearly ten years, police tried to track you down based on some bizarre run-ins with police officers. The mystery was far too much for them to handle. Consequently, the case belonged to us and here you are.” Fury chimed in with his own blunt words.

"You moved fast. Very good at leading everyone off your tracks and being two steps ahead of the game. You're good, but we're better. Tell us what you are and things won't go as bad as they did."

The two men stared at her. They were obviously more curious than intimidated, sitting on the edge of their seats with their eyes squinting at her. On the other hand, our heroine had the face of Mona Lisa, mysteriously smiling at the agents the whole time.

"Tell us," ordered Fury. "We have the weapons against you."

She had rarely been in this position before. Somehow, they were now the ones two steps ahead. She sighed. "I was born of Coeus, titan of the intellectual and inquisitive mind, and Mnemosyne, goddess of memory and inventress of language and words. My name is Amara, goddess of clairvoyance, perception, and madness. Ask away," she stated, following her last words with a shoo of her right hand.

Both agents were found to be slack-jawed, but changed their expression in a second to a stolid one. They had caught a big fish and they knew it. She sighed once more.

"Why are you on Earth?"asked the placid Coulson.

"Let's just say I was punished."

"Why?"added Fury.

"Leave it at that unless you want another knock on your door like New York," she simply stated, turning her head away.

"Fair enough," added Fury.

"You're not supposed to exist. You've never even existed in greek mythology," said Coulson, carefully eyeing the goddess.

"I was given the choice of a legacy and a prison or a forgotten name and freedom. Chose the easy one. Might I add that this isn't mythology. It's reality gentlemen," she answered.

"What do you do, exactly?"said director Fury, reclining in his seat, clearly showing interest.

"I get in your mind, Fury. I twist it, I manipulate it, I control it, I take ahold of every area in your brain," her upper body rose up and her face was apathetic,"I'm your nightmares, the bad place in your head. I can drive you to madness."

"Now, I have a question for you. How did I get knocked out?"she continued with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"I'm afraid that's classified information," stated Agent Coulson, his face showing indifference.

"Then what do you want? You would've walked out right now if you didn't want something. Spit it out, I can't run; you found my weak spot and used it twice before I ever found out what it was."

Fury sighed in response and turned to Coulson."Should we?"

Coulson reflected for a moment before nodding back to Fury. Coulson grabbed his suitcase, unlocking it, searching through documents and finding the one he was looking for, afterwards handing it to Fury. It was quite bulky and had to be held with an elastic. The only details Amara noticed were a 'CLASSIFIED' stamp and a logo, which was logical to assume it was S.H.I.E.L.D's.

"We'd like to talk about the Avengers Initiative, a group of talented people formed by S.H.I.E-"

"I know who they are. I know Natasha was one of them. They've done enough damage to New York. What's in it for me besides that thing?" she interrupted.

"We provide you with an apartment floor in our headquarters in New York City, a generous pay, and a new life," replied Coulson.

"You know my obvious answer," she sarcastically retorded.

"Good. Welcome to the Avengers Initiative. Coulson?" "A car will come pick you up tomorrow at noon. They'll return your clothes sooner or later and one of our agents will be accompanying you at our headquarters," he paused before standing up and turned back to the goddess."Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."

The agent threw the document on her bed afterwards closing up his suitcase. The men stood up and walked over to the side of her bed, firmly shaking hands with her. The guards next to her which she completely forgot about, marched alongside the two agents as they exited the room and sealed the metallic door.

She picked up the papers and quicklylooked over them.

Contracts, S.H.I.E.L.D. pamphlets, S.H.I.E.L.D. manuals.

This sounded like an eternal office job.

____________________________

Today was the day. She sat in the backseat of a black car with an unknown chaffeur driving her towards Stark Tower, the agency's headquarters. She couldn't see through the thick darkened windows and the partition in front of her. The seats were made in rich dark expensive leather.

For three hours, the driver was calm, smoothly driving her through unknown roads and highways. She could only see his shadow; he was a strict figure with a buzzcut who solely focused on the road and his earpiece, from what she collected.

For those three long hours she silently waited, trying to guess in which direction they were headed. Finally, they hit civilization when the car was stopping every second from traffic. Even through the thick car doors, bullet-proof and soundproof windows, she could hear the honking cars and the distinct smell of charred pretzels, metal tinged air from the subway, coffee, and garbage on a hot summer day.

_New York_

The car suddenly slowed down and descended with ease, rolling for at least two more minutes before stopping completely. Watching the driver's shadow disappear, she stood straight and unbuckled her seat belt, presuming she'd be on her way out.

The door opened to a big muscular curly headed man in a suit, shuffling her roughly his way as to get things quickly done. He also had, like the guards she previously met, sunglasses blocking his face and an earpiece.

"Safe, 236, we are safe," he spoke into his earpiece while putting her in handcuffs.

She looked around and saw nothing but a very large poorly lit empty warehouse and light coming through both ends of a tunnel far from her.

The goddess was pushed by the guard towards a red steel door with no handle and a small hologram next to it. He bent down and opened one of his eyes which the machine was analyzing, opening the door.

The guard stood up and pushed her forward into a long concrete path with a few metal doors on each side.

Finally reaching the elevator at the end of the path, the guard pressed 'up' and the doors immediately opened. They both entered at once, the guard still tightly latching onto her handcuffs.

"326, 326, package is up on living q. E-78," he spoke into his earpiece.

Subsequently, he pressed the button on the panel with the exact last numbers. The doors closed as Amara cracked her neck, which made the guard cringe in disgust. In return, she gave him a smile and he stared at her blankly, almost as if she were a ghost. This whole process was useless, S.H.I.E.L.D. knew it. This guard was probably on a power trip.

Finally, the doors opened and the guard shoved her out, following her from behind, unlocking her handcuffs and pushing her on the ground before quickly returning to the elevator.

Dusting off her jeans, she looked around the room and the first thing that caught her eye was the beautiful view of Manhattan and the flawless clear windows that enhanced the beautiful skyline.

Looking back, the elevator was placed at the far end of the apartment next to another series of windows on each side.

On her right, there was a kitchen containing the most luxurious appliances she'd ever seen accompagnied by rich black marble countertops. The wall displayed a sizeable collection of alcohol, ranging from red wine to grappa, each section lighting up every single bottle.

Walking over to the left side of the apartment in a calm manner, she found a large space dedicated to multiple luxurious couches and an HD flat screen television complete with almost every console in the world, ranging from ancient to recent.

She noticed white tinted french doors nearby the kitchen and slowly walked over. Curiosity had taken the best of her. Carefully opening them, she found a cream colored room with a matching bed in the centre, right across from the door.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she looked around, examining all the items in her room. On each side of the bed, there were curtains and a large creamy couch was located to her right while two open doors on her left revealed a splendid bathroom and a large closet filled with clothes and shoes.

"A welcome's appropriate, I guess," called an unknown voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo... I just saw Age of Ultron!!!! Awesome movie!!!! Anyways, I decided this story is going to be right after winter soldier, so like two years after the first Avengers. Age of ultron is packed with things and i dont wanna spoil so imma leave it at that. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! You seemed to like the prologue and the chapter so yay!!


End file.
